


What I Have Always Craved

by watsonholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hospitalization, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:32:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watsonholmes/pseuds/watsonholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock ponders on the things he used to crave before John and before Hamish and how these cravings changed drastically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Have Always Craved

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "Hamish, age three, is in an accident or something and refuses to let both Sherlock and John out of his sight without crying?" by benaddictedin221b

John knew he was going to be home late tonight. He’d been researching on the rate of decomposition of a severed hand placed in varying environments. It was for a case, a rather exciting one at that. Excellent.

Sherlock had been at St. Bart’s for six hours now. As he looked at his computer rechecking some things, he let his mind wander. He remembered how he used to crave moments like this, with only silence for company, him completely immersed in a devastatingly interesting case Lestrade managed to entice Sherlock with. He remembered how relaxing it all was, no one to bother him with the tedious normality of life. As he scrolled down on his computer, he managed a small smile. _Ah. How the times have changed,_ he thought. He didn’t crave solitude anymore. He had John now and every moment with the man he loved was as exciting as a triple murder with absolutely no leads. He managed another smile as he thought of another addition to the family three years ago. Almost a year after his return to Baker Street, they had Hamish; and what stupendous addition he was. The moment he saw their son, Sherlock never thought he could have felt that much love in him. What he felt for Hamish was impossible to explain, but he truly was a bundle of joy. The first time he held the infant was a memory he would always keep. It had its own place in his mind palace. Three years of having Hamish, he might have to reorganize because of all the things he’d been storing up. Hamish’s quarter was right next to John’s. Theirs would be the most visited rooms in his mind palace.

No, he didn’t crave this solitude anymore, but he certainly still had a liking to it. With all the wonderful chaos at home, Sherlock still wanted to enjoy his me-time. He scoffed at the term. Now going for seven hours, he heard his phone ring, but he was right on the verge of finding the answers. He chose to ignore the rings until it died out.

Twenty minutes later, he got his answer. What a marvelous experiment that was. He wanted to savour it, but he also couldn’t wait to go home to his family and see Hamish sleeping in his little cot sound asleep; couldn’t wait to go home to lie next to John, maybe even unintentionally wake him up by hitting him on the head with a pillow just to tell him of his experiment. John would surely berate him for waking him up, but he would tell Sherlock just how brilliant he was.

Sherlock was about to put on his coat when the door slammed open. It was Lestrade, he knew but did not bother to look up and check. He took his phone from his pocket and looked at the notification.

**Twelve missed calls.**

**Five text messages.**

_Odd._ “Yes, I have solved the case it was the gardener and no, I will not make a statement tonight. I have a family to go home to. No need to worry. The gardener would be at home when you make an arrest. No more hands to chop off, that one,” Sherlock supplied. He looked at the notifications again and saw they were all from Lestrade except for the first one, a missed call from Mycroft. There must have been a new development with the case. He looked up and saw the man’s face for the first time that evening.

One look and he knew. “What happened?,” Sherlock paled, even paler than his usual white marble complexion. Lestrade, not missing a beat stated, “There’s been a break-in at Baker Street. I tried calling you but you weren’t answering.” Within seconds, he was right in front of Lestrade grabbing his arm, “Tell me!” Sherlock demanded.

“John told me you were here right before he passed out, he was able to incapacitate the attacker and is now in custody. I couldn’t get a hold of you but we were taking Hamish and John here so I just fetched you.” Lestrade looked uncomfortable as he said this.

“Take me to them,” Sherlock dragging Lestrade out of the room by his elbow. Sherlock’s mind supplied him with numerous possibilities of what he might expect to see upstairs. His thoughts were on a loop. _John. Hamish. John. Hamish._ A continuous sequence of their names as if in prayer. Sherlock thought of how John was still recovering from three broken ribs and a pretty bad wound, Sherlock worried even more. Surely John was alright since he incapacitated the attacker. Right?

As they walked to the elevators, Lestrade told him what happened. _John and Hamish were sleeping in the bedroom downstairs. Hamish was in his crib sound asleep when John heard a noise coming from the sitting room. John decided to investigate and went to the sitting room and saw someone broke in. The man attacked and John tried to fend him off. John was hit in the head with a broken table leg laying around, the most accessible thing at hand by the attacker’s perspective. In the end, John had the attacker bound on one of the chairs. John then called Lestrade to report the incident and asked him to tell Sherlock right away._

“When I got there, I heard Hmish’s wails and saw the attacker bruised and bloodied tied to a chair and I looked for John and Hamish. I saw John lying on the floor while Hamish cried his eyes off, probably thinking his dad was done for.

“The medics quickly rushed John off and I took Hamish. The poor beggar couldn’t stop wailing while I held him, kicking and screaming to see his Daddy,” Lestrade went on looking very concerned.

“Where’s Hamish?” Sherlock asked. It was as if he’d been asking Lestrade this for the hundredth time and no sooner could he get an answer. “He’s with Mrs. Hudson. She soothed Hamish in the car while I followed the ambulance. They’re waiting in John’s room now. Probably by Mycroft’s hand, he could get a child in the hospital. Poor thing needed to see his Daddy at all times. He’s asked for you the whole drive here.”

They went into the private room, definitely Mycroft. Sherlock hurriedly scooped up his son and the toddler broke down into quiet sobs as he tucked his tiny head into his favorite spot there, where Sherlock’s neck met his shoulder. Hamish murmured unintelligibly into the collar of Sherlock’s shirt. He was probably telling Sherlock everything that had happened. For his part, Sherlock began stroking the little kid’s back while he shhh-ed the boy and kept saying “Daddy’s going to be just fine, Hamish” and “I know, Hamish, but Daddy’s gonna be here anytime now.”

John was wheeled in the private room unconscious. His doctor, Dr. Patel, gestured to Sherlock to have a quick chat on how John was doing based on the primary scans they did for head trauma. Hamish did not want to be transferred to anyone else, nor did he want to sneak a peek at John’s lying form, he was probably scared to see how his Daddy was doing. So, Sherlock took Hamish with him just outside John’s room. Hamish clutched on Sherlock’s collar and nape tighter as the doctor began to speak. Hamish is quite perceptive as a child, seemingly able to understand what exactly was happening without knowing the words being exchanged.

Daddy had just undergone some really important things to check if he’s okay. Hamish can feel Sherlock become stiff as Daddy’s doctor told him that Daddy still needed to sleep.

Hamish was quiet the whole time Sherlock spoke to the doctor, but Sherlock knew Hamish understood the general points of the conversation.

Daddy’s doctor wasn’t sure when Daddy would wake up. Hamish wished he’d wake up really really soon because he’s really worried for Daddy. Hamish was worried for Father as well. He just knows that Father would be really sad by this. He should have protected Daddy or should have done something when Daddy fell asleep. He wanted to be like him, treating people to make them feel better. At the moment he needed Hamish the most, all he could do was cry. He really hated that.

 

Hamish never left Sherlock’s side the entire time, occasionally looking from John to Sherlock then back to John, seemed scared as though if he didn’t make sure both of them was there, one would disappear completely.

Mycroft sent a small cot for Hamish an hour after John arrived in his room to make sure the toddler was comfortable. He also sent a comfortable chair for Sherlock and he immediately placed it beside John’s bed. Sherlock received a text from Mycroft right after ensuring that the perpetrator had been dealt with  through the help of New Scotland Yard. He couldn’t be bothered to send a reply so he didn’t. Instead, he looked back at John’s sleeping form. John looked so small now, so fragile. He thought of how John would have forgotten he was supposed to be recovering when the attack happened. It was typical of Captain John H. Watson, M.D. to forget such things and protect his family from any harm.

The doctors told Sherlock that John was simply resting, that there was nothing to be alarmed about so Sherlock just waited, quietly praying that there really was nothing to be worried about. _So, dramatic, John. Really?_ Sherlock thought as he quelled his worry with a bit of humor.

Sherlock’s so grateful that nothing happened to Hamish. If he felt this lost because John was _sleeping_ he didn’t know how he could possibly take it if Hamish were harmed too.

Sherlock, and Hamish, stayed by John’s bed until John woke up. They stayed there for two days and three hours in total. Hamish felt as relieved as Sherlock looked. John’s face was scrunched up as if in pain and Sherlock hit for the call button so fast. Before the nurses got there, John saw Sherlock holding Hamish and John smiled at the pair of them, his lovely family. He heard Hamish squeal in delight and called for him, “Daddy.” He felt assured everything was going to be fine and smiled once again before drifting back to sleep.

The next time John woke up was pretty much the same, he could see his lovely family as they look at him lovingly. He could see exhaustion in Sherlock’s eyes but he was happy, relieved even. John gestured them closer and hugged the both of them. Hamish felt so happy he could see Daddy’s eyes again, and they were clearer than he last remembered seeing them. He tightened his grip on his Daddy, but not too tight. Hamish needed to learn how to handle sick people like his Daddy. He would tell Father about this sometime later. No doubt Father would like Hamish’s decision. It was a very happy day for Hamish.

 

Sherlock used to crave moments of solitude with only silence as company, but with his family right here in his arms, there were no moments worth craving for more than this. Yet another memory to store in his mind palace. It was cluttered and chaotic, and it was home.

 


End file.
